


And They Were Roommates

by DeeWatter



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Bisexual Peter Parker, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, I Ship It, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I’M STILL MAKING CHANGES TO THE STORY, M/M, Ned and MJ are engaged and I don’t care what you think about it, No Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pansexual Wade Wilson, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Wade Wilson, So much fluff y’all, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Wade Wilson Needs A Hug, like it’s a little ridiculous, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2019-10-02 02:24:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17255876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeeWatter/pseuds/DeeWatter
Summary: Four years prior to The accident, Peter decided to move in with his aunt again after living with his godfather Tony Stark, due to her sickness worsening. Now at 25, Peter lives alone in their old apartment, working full time six days a week to keep up with the rent. When Tony suggests him helping Peter with the financial problems, he refuses the offer and tells him that he can handle everything on his own. But when the people of New York City are wondering where Spider-Man has been for the past five weeks, he realizes that he might not be able to.After a good talk with his childhood friend Ned, they decide that Peter should get a roommate.Oh, and Wade Wilson is back in town.





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First I just want to say that I don't live in New York City, nor have I ever been there, so I apologize if I made any mistakes with my descriptions. I tried to do as much research as I could but it was hard to get certain details. I also tried to do as much research as I could about Peter’s injuries! But I’m sorry if anything is incorrect.
> 
> The second thing is that even though I've gone to an English school for almost 5 years now, I still have a lot to learn about the language which means there will most definitely be some spelling mistakes, so I apologize for that as well!
> 
> The third thing I need to mention, and I promise this is the last point, is that I've written a lot before (personal books and a bunch of fanfictions) but I've never used AO3 before so this is a new experience for me! I've always written in Google Documents for my own books and on Wattpad for fan-related content, so I'd like to ask you to be very patient with me because I'm not really sure of what I'm doing.
> 
> Well then, I won't keep you any longer. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy the chapter!
> 
> (Peter's and Wade's dynamic is heavily based on the Spideypool comics, which might make Peter a little ooc from his Tom Holland version. But I've tried to stay as consistent as possible! Oh, and if it's not already evident in the story, Wade and Peter already know each other's identities and have for a while.)

The frigid and dark November weather has failed to suck all energy from the city. At least seemingly most of it. The Christmas sales are already overflowing stores, and decorations are being hung on every street of the city. However, Peter Parker knows he has two things to thank for the fact that he doesn't have to run around his ass singing Christmas carols all day.

The first thing is probably the minor part, it's that he lives alone and can't be bothered with getting into the spirit. What good will that do other than bringing the stress of decorating into his already very stressful life? The second thing he doesn't even want to thank, but it's a matter of principal. He's just way too busy, working full time six days a week. It's not like he has a choice, either. (That's a lie he totally does, but he's absolutely not allowing his godfather to pay his rent when he's already made the decision to take care of it himself)

In Peter's personal opinion, he does not appreciate the blinking lights and loud Christmas music blasting from every store, restaurant, and home in the city while walking home from the burden that is the Daily Bugle at nine o'clock in the evening.

It wouldn't be as unbearable without his heightened senses, but unfortunately, that's the boat he's been sitting in for about ten years now. Not to mention how freaking cold it is since he can't thermoregulate.

Consequently, winter isn't the best time of the year for Peter since the spider bite, but he can at least appreciate some aspects of it. Like how pretty the city is now that it's coated with a thin layer of snow, or how absolutely delightful his hot coffee is on his walk home from work. It's the only source of heat he has as he walks through a crowd of people down fifth Avenue, thanks to that and his layered clothing Peter can almost say that he's not feeling like an icicle for once.

When he finally reaches his apartment building in Carnegie Hill, he doesn't even bother to check if the elevator is working because it hasn't since he and Aunt May moved in. Instead, he drags himself up the stairs to the top floor, knocks the snow off his timberlands against the wall (because what heathen would walk inside with snow on their shoes?), and unlocks his sluggish, rusty, and creaky door that he's been too lazy to fix for months.

The first thing he sees when he enters the apartment is a mountain of moving boxes in the living room, yesterday's takeout boxes on the moderately sized kitchen island, and some notes for his latest article laying on the dining table.

"Oh man, that was today, wasn't it?" Peter grumbled and huffed at the boxes as he tugged at his curls. His godfather had promised to send a truck where he could load May's old furniture and clothes to take them to the Avengers compound, but it would leave at eleven. Even with his super strength and speed, he doubted that he'd be done in time.

So he shook off his thick winter coat and hung it by the door on a hook, prepared his best 'kicked puppy' expression and called his best friend on FaceTime. It only took three rings until Michelle's and Ned's faces appeared on screen with different levels of excitement to see him.

"Hey MJ!" Peter smiled and she smiled back with a wave. "Sorry, I had to call your phone because I knew Ned wouldn't pick up at this hour if I called. But I need to borrow him for a few. That cool?"

"Dude, you're interrupting movie night." Ned glowered. But Michelle only laughed and stood up, disappearing through a door behind Ned while shaking her head, her brown and frizzy hair bouncing on her shoulders. "Not cool man."

"What were you watching that was so important?" Peter snickered, moving to pick up one of the boxes with his free hand, sticking his fingers firmly to the cardboard surface.

"Stop stalling and spit it out, Pete. I know that look, you want something from me. Please don't tell me it's that stupid article again. I've told you my opinion already, nobody is going to believe that-" He was interrupted by Peter yelling 'shit!' loudly, dropping his phone along with the box, adding an additional crack to his already scrambled screen. "Hey, you okay? What're you doing?"

"Yeah, sorry man, I tried to open the door with my elbow without dropping anything but... well." He rubbed the back of his head as he picked the phone up, flipping the camera and showing Ned the box that had stumbled down the stairwell outside of his apartment. Luckily there were only clothes in it so nothing was broken. "I've been putting off moving May's stuff out and I'm kind of in a hurry to get it all out by tonight."

"And you want me to come help? No way." Ned huffed but stood up to exit the room he was in anyway. "Did you know that it's scientifically proven that people who ask for help moving their furniture will lose friends quicker?"

Peter flipped the camera back to his face, shaking his head with an exasperated look in his face. "Ned I'm serious, I only have two hours, and I'm trying not to freak out, you know how I get when I freak out."

"Yeah yeah, I'm on my way. Honey, could you hold this while I put on my jacket? Entertain him please." Ned's tired face on the screen was then switched out to Michelle's more bright one.

"Ned, he's not an animal." Michelle chuckled. "Peter, where are you making my fiancé go at this hour?" She smirked, sitting down in a chair and putting her chin in her manicured hand, looking expectantly at the camera.

"He's in over his head again and I gotta come to the rescue. I'll probably be a while so don't wait up." Ned muttered somewhere offscreen, Michelle just rolled her chocolate brown eyes.

"Hey, I am not in over my head! I've just been too busy and forgot that I kind of, sort of, had a time limit!" At that, both Michelle and Ned laughed, but Peter ignored them and put the phone down on his counter so he had both hands free.

"Do you want me to come over as well? That looks like a lot of stuff, you could probably use some feminine muscles." She said, but Peter chuckled and waved his hand dismissively at her. “I’m serious though, Peter, you should technically still be resting after what happened. Moving heavy furniture isn’t what the doctors told you to do, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not letting the doctors control my life like that. If I want to get up in the morning, I will. If I want to move boxes, I sure as hell will do that, too.” Peter scoffed.

Michelle hummed and decided to change the subject, Peter was moving boxes into separate sections, his back to the counter. "Is that all hers?" She asked.

"Yeah..." Peter sighed, putting his hands on his hips and leaning his head back to look at Michelle (which he wouldn't be able to do if he wasn't super flexible) and nodded. "There was a lot more than this, but I wanted to keep some things. Like her pictures and journals and stuff she really cared about."

"Oh, no totally, I get that." She nodded back and Peter continued to move boxes around. Somewhere on Michelle's end, a heavy door could be heard opening and closing. "Ned will be at your place in a few, 'Kay? He headed out just now."

Peter turned and smiled tiredly. "Oh, okay. I'll thank him when he gets here then."

Michelle smiled back, "Don't overwork yourself, loser. I know you have work tomorrow, so try to be done as fast as those spider legs can manage, capiche? We don't want to pick up a zombie Peter tomorrow morning to drive you to the hospital."

Peter saw through the nickname and sarcasm that Michelle often uses, and appreciated the sentiment Because he knew she meant it. "Thanks, MJ, I won't."

"Hang in there Peter." She waved and then hung up, leaving Peter alone with only the quietness of his apartment and his mind to keep him company. Well, as quiet as it could be in his mind and in New York City.

-

Ned was leaning against a streetlight while waiting on the bus to come when the phone in his pocket started buzzing. He rubbed his crusty eyes, cursing at himself for not buying a coffee at the 7-Eleven on the way, and sluggishly pulled out his phone to answer the call.

“He's not okay, Ned.” His soon-to-be wife said with a somber voice before Ned could ask what was up.

And if that wasn't ominous, he doesn’t know what is.

“What do you mean?” He muttered when the bus finally arrived, he pulled out his ticket from his back pocket while pressing his phone against his shoulder with his cheek. “Did you two talk more after I left?”

He walked on to the bus and looked for an empty seat when he passed a lady, probably in her 60's, who smiled warmly at him when he walked by and moved her bag off the seat it had been on. He said a quick 'thanks' and had barely sat down when Michelle answered.

“No, not much,” she sighed, and Ned could almost see her shaking her head disappointingly. “But I can see it, Ned, and hear it when he talks about her.”

Ned frowned and the lady next to him cocked her head curiously at him.

"Fiancé." He whispered curtly, and she chuckled softly. “Of course he's not okay, honey. Even I haven't recovered completely,” He said once the lady had started looking out of the window, which he was mildly grateful for.

“I was really close to May, but nothing like Peter, we can't be expecting him to have moved on.”

Her next reply came faster. “Oh, sweetie,” she said, her tone changed completely, her words now laced with sympathy. “I'm sorry, I know it was hard for you too. I don't expect any one of us to recover completely.”

There was a pause, another sigh, and the sound of rustling fabric. Maybe she had gone to bed. What she said next came out as a hushed whisper.

“What concerns me is that he's trying to hide it from us.”

Ned hummed, he'd noticed that too. He had also thought about what to do about it. Peter isn't a very open person, even with him and Michelle who he has known for years, so trying to make him talk about it would probably not work in their favor.

Ned knew that a few years back, after Peter had been spider-man for a while and seen more than most people would in a lifetime, May had tried to take him to a therapist because he had nightmares and anxiety attacks. It hadn't helped, and if anything, it made Peter more anxious because he wasn't used to talking about his problems like that.

To this day Peter still has those problems, but he copes with them on his own. Which isn't healthy, Ned knows that and he's pretty sure that Peter knows it as well, but he isn't comfortable with having it any other way so Ned won't suggest otherwise.

Several minutes pass, and when Ned eventually steps off the bus he hears a voice from his pocket.

“You still there?”

Oh. Whoops.

“Sorry, got lost in thought,” he says after picking up his phone again, a chuckle from Michelle clearing the somber air. “I'll talk to him about it after we're done.”

Hopefully, that would calm Michelle down for a little while. Enough for her to sleep calmly at least.

Would he actually do it? Yes. Would Peter like it? Probably not. But he'd at least try for everyone's sake.

“Do it over coffee, he looked tired,” Michelle mumbles, from what Ned hears he’s sure she’s about to pass out any minute now.

Ned scoffs at Michelle’s suggestion and kicks an empty can on the ground grumpily, eyes still plastered on his shoes when he turns down to Peter's street.

“He'll be paying in that case, owes me for dragging me over to his moving party at nine pm.” Ned says, but there’s no real anger in his words.

“Don't be petty and go help your best friend,” she laughs, the yawns heavily. “Don't wake me when you get home, I have to leave early for work tomorrow. Let's have lunch though.”

Ned nods even though she can’t see him, but she already knows that he would say yes, so she just says “have fun now!” when Ned is outside of Peter’s building.

“I hate you,” He mutters.

“Love you too,” she says, and then the line goes dead.

Ned is surprised to see that most of the things have already been moved out into the small stairwell, or he had passed them by the entrance where SI employees were loading them into a truck.

In search of his best friend, Ned steps over the furniture and boxes into the apartment and finds him sitting on the kitchen island, head in hands. Ned's previous bitterness turned into worry in an instant, he knew his friend missed May like nothing else in this world, so clearly this would take a heavy toll on him. Especially since he had to do it all in one night and didn't really have a chance to take long enough breaks to be emotionally stable through it all.

He’s surprised that Peter hasn’t heard him yet, what with his heightened senses and all that, so he decides to make his presence known.

"Hey man. You okay?"

At that Peter looks up, meeting Ned's eyes with his red-rimmed ones. He sniffled and dried his nose on the cuff of his sleeve which Ned cringed at, grabbing him some tissues from the counter he hopped up to sit next to his friend.

"I'm fine,” he says, but his voice wavers and he tries to hide it by clearing his throat. “There are only a few things I gotta get out before I'm done," Ned offered him a tissue which he happily takes to dry his eyes. "Tony's workers promised to take care of the rest, so I’m good."

Ned sighed and rubbed his friends back reassuringly, then moved to take off his jacket so he could sit more comfortably.

"Not what I meant, buddy."

It took Peter a while to find an answer to that, but Ned waited patiently as Peter folded the used tissue and tugged at his bottom lip.

"I know, Ned. But honestly, I'm fine. It's already been two months since it happened, it's not a big deal anymore.” God, Peter was an awful liar. “It's just the stress getting to me I guess. Don't worry."

Even though Peter has told him not to worry at least one thousand times for the last two months, Ned did worry. Not just now but he's been worrying ever since the incident. Peter had gotten seriously hurt, he had fractured his back and almost broken his neck, and due to damage to his nerve roots he now had a permanent twitch in his arm, but he was lucky and survived nonetheless.

May was not as lucky.

Peter had been in the hospital for a week after surgery before he could convince his godfather that he could recover further at his apartment. For some time Peter did what the doctors and Tony had told him, but when the problem with rent came up, he started going back to work.

Peter said he was doing fine, but Ned could tell that he was struggling.

Ned worried over the way his friend's shoulders always seemed to be hanging low, over the dark circles that were the sizes of queens under his eyes, and the way he didn't smile a lot anymore. When he eventually did, Ned could tell it was for other people more than it was for himself.

He could also tell that peter was in pain. Screw his healing, breaking your back and almost your neck wouldn’t be fun for anyone, especially if they didn’t recover correctly.

But despite his worries, Ned also knew that what Peter wanted was to everyone to stop pitying him, and for things to become normal again. So he refrained from arguing with Peter about the fact that it is still a big deal, and it will be for the rest of Peter’s life. And that its okay to be upset about it, because nobody is expecting him to be completely healed after only two months.

Instead, he jumped down from the kitchen island, threw his maroon jacket over towards the rundown sofa, and clapped his hands together. He almost decided against his decision to make Peter get back to work when Peter flinched at the sound, but his friend was looking expectantly at him now so he just grinned instead.

"Alright then, Parker, let's get the rest of her things out so we can both avoid getting hit by my fiancé tomorrow!"

Peter seemed to perk up at the idea, and so they helped the SI employees move the rest of the boxes and furniture down to the truck and finished in time for them to leave before eleven, Peter tried to tip them for their help but they'd apparently gotten specific orders to not accept money from him, (because of course his godfather knew that he'd attempt that).

Before they both know it they're stepping into a small café at the corner of Peter's street per Michelle's request, and despite Ned joking about Peter owing him, he still pays because he knows his friend is struggling with money lately.

They sit in one of the booths and wait for their order, exchanging complaints about the cold winter this year. Ned finds out that Peter doesn’t have proper heating in his apartment, which starts a whole other wave of complaints from both of them. The heated discussion quickly dies out to silence when their drinks arrive though, and Ned is left with trying to figure out how to bring up the subject of Peter hiding his emotions. Scratch that, he doesn't even know what to say to begin with. Luckily, thanks to whatever god is out there, Peter starts talking before the air between them can become unbearably awkward.

"So, I have like, a huge empty room in my apartment now. What do you think I should do with it?" Peter looks up from his coffee, but with the whipped cream, the syrup, the sprinkles, and the god knows what, Ned's not even sure it can be called that anymore.

"I don't know dude, maybe move your bed and your stuff from your room into hers since it’s bigger, and leave yours for storage or something?" He shrugs, and when he looks up at his friend Peter laughs at something he hasn't seen but clears his throat like he's trying to contain himself.

"No, I don’t think it’s worth the struggle. Plus, I like having a smaller room, easier to chill on the walls and make web hammocks."

At first, the last comment catches him off guard, before he remembers his friends other life. "Right, spider instincts or some shit," he snickers, Peter glares and slurps his drink loudly, but Ned can see the affection behind his actions. They fall into a comfortable silence and watch the snow that had started to fall slowly outside, not mentioning how Peter had looked out expectantly before it had even begun to snow like he knew it was going to happen.

"I saw you had your old camera at your apartment, have you been getting into photographing again?" Ned asks after a while.

"Not really." Peter hums, circling his thumb around the handle of his mug, still looking outside at people passing on the sidewalk.

"Okay, then what have you been doing lately?"

This makes Peter look at him, he furrows his eyebrows. "What do you mean? I've been working."

It's silent for a second, Ned's secretly hoping his friend is joking but a sad part of him knows he's not. "I meant, uh, I was just wondering why you had it out if you're not taking any photos?" He says instead of waiting to see if he's right.

He's not.

Because Peter squints and looks at Ned as if he's grown an extra head.

"Ned, it was only for an article I was working on. Don't get all weird about it." He clears his throat and fumbles with his hands before continuing. "I mean, I have been taking photos, it's just for work is all, I wasn't thinking about getting into it again. Besides, I doubt I'd have time, considering my work schedule -"

"Dude, how much do you work? Is this why you haven't patrolled in like, a month?"

The silence isn't comfortable this time. It's not awkward either, it's tense, and Peter seems caught off guard.

"what are you talking about? I- I've been patrolling! I only took a one week break because of my injury-"

"Peter, are you being serious?” Ned almost shouts but remembers that they’re in public. “Have you been working so much that you haven't even realized how many weeks it's been since you were last out as Spider-man?" Ned is leaning over the table on his elbows now, looking worriedly at his flabbergasted friend.

Peter opens and closes his mouth, and Ned noticed how Peter’s arm starts to twitch as his anxiety grows. Ned sighs and leans back in his seat, he hadn’t meant to make Peter feel bad. "How do you work at the Daily Bugle and not know about these things, anyway?"

"All departments aren't writing about spider-man, you know." Peter mutters back defensively.

"I’m not encouraging you to patrol, because I don’t think you’re ready to go back to that yet, with your injury and all.” Peter rolls his eyes at that, and Ned stares hard in disapproval. “People have been talking about how they think you ran off with that weird mercenary dude for weeks now." Ned pushes.

"Run off? Huh, that's weird,” his friend hums, itching his chin in pretend thought. “I saw Wade last weekend." Peter scoffs and rolls his eyes like Ned's the crazy one with a friend who kills people for money.

"Yeah, but did you see Deadpool?" Ned sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. "I can't believe you're on a first name basis with the guy, soon you'll be married and have a thousand little spider children running around."

Peter frowns, "he calls me by real name all the time so it would be weird if I just called him Deadpool,” he says matter of factly. “Plus, we only talk, like, once or twice a week. It's not like we're living together. Also I don’t think he even-"

"Peter! Shut up!" Ned exclaimed, grin growing on his face. "You little genius!"

Peter looked more concerned than confused at the statement.

"Uh- thanks, Ned. But what are you talking about exactly?"

"You should totally get a roomie!"

Peter lifted an unimpressed eyebrow and crossed his arms. "Ned, what?"

"Come on, it's perfect! If you don't know what to do with the room, just let someone else have it!” Peter is ready to argue, but Ned quickly stops him while waving his hands excitedly. “They'd share the rent with you so you wouldn't have to work as much anymore, it's the perfect solution!" Ned was practically breaking at the seams with glee, and Peter chuckled affectionately at his antics.

"You know what? Fine, if it'll make you happy." Peter wait's a beat, and them smirks smugly. "You have a bunch of coffee around your mouth, by the way." Ned almost screams in embarrassment but lets it go when Peter gives him a napkin.

They decide to go back to the apartment, and the whole way Ned is talking about the possibilities a roommate would give, ‘think of the sleepovers!’, but Peter argues that they’re adults and they don’t do sleepovers anymore. The few people who are out and about stare at them as they argue playfully (and loudly) but Peter can’t find himself to care.

Back at his apartment, Ned pulled out Peters old laptop and showed him how craigslist worked and tried to convince him, key word ‘tried’, that it was safe enough for him not to get murdered by a stranger. He also helped to clear out some personal stuff out of May's old room, Peter insisted that if Ned wanted this to happen so badly he'd have to assist him all the way, and Ned had eagerly agreed like the good friend he is.

Around midnight Ned decided that he had go back home because it was late and he didn't want Michelle to get worried in case she woke up and he wasn't there. They decided to meet up the morning after and finish instead, and with that Ned left.

Peter didn't know what to do with the rest of his night, he thought maybe he'd watch Netflix until he fell asleep on the sofa like most of his Saturday nights. Tomorrow he didn't have work, and on Monday he'd have to ask the boss of his department if he could start working five days instead of six because if he didn't need to work on the weekend he wouldn't.

So all things considered, he was a little shocked at himself when the thought of going out in his suit had popped up in his head. Ned had of course been right earlier, when Peter thought about it, it really had been a long time since he had patrolled. So now that he was aware of the time that had passed, he missed it. Screw his injury, as long as he didn’t twist his back or move his left arm too abruptly, he’d be fine.

He rummaged under his bed where he hides his suit, and after a good dusting he steps in to it and pulls it on (maybe a bit too easily, how much weight has he lost?) and the moment he puts on his mask he feels like a kid on christmas.

And oh god, the tension that had been building up in his body for weeks was immediately released the moment he jumped out his window and swung away from his street. He ignored the thumping in his left shoulder and back and instead enjoyed the feeling of the cool air around him.  

It didn't end up being much of a patrol, he mostly went around the city appreciating the therapeutic feeling it gave him for a couple of hours, and by the end of his little sightseeing he ended up sitting on the edge of a skyscraper near time square.

It was silent, except for the occasional honking of cars in the early morning and the chattering of people far, far down below him. So when the roof door slammed open behind him he nearly jumped fifty feet in the air and he's pretty sure his scream sounded identical to some kind of tropical bird. But when he turned around to face the awaited threat, he was pleasantly surprised.

"Peter Pumpkin!" the man singsonged. "I saw you sitting up here in your spandex outfit- which, by the way, so glad you're back into this thing again because let me tell you webs, this is a great look on you." Thanks to his expressive mask, Peter could see the wink and the way Wade's lips puckered when he blew him a kiss. Peter chuckled and shook his head, he stepped down from the ledge and put his hands on his hips.

"Wade, nice to see you." He tilted his head to the side and his eyes scanned the brown, greasy paper bag his friend was holding, pointing to it. "Tacos or chimichangas?"

"How much would you love me If I said both?" Wade giggled and Peter imagined the huge grin behind his mask as he tossed him the bag.

Peter laughed and peaked into the bag, and of course, Wade had indeed gotten both. When he looked up Wade had moved closer to him, motioning to the ledge behind Peter which they both plopped down on happily. They pulled up their masks to their noses, Wade being hesitant as always but Peter paid no mind to him as he dug into his first taco.

The food was still hot like it was newly made, and he wondered where Wade had managed to buy both tacos and chimichangas so early in the morning if that was the case. Peter was just about to reach into the bag to grab another one when he realized Wade's gaze on him. It caught him a little off guard. Wade normally didn't talk much while they ate, Peter knew it was because he didn't want to attract attention to his face, but now he was just... Looking at Peter. And the silence was just a little unsettling.

"Is there something on my face?" He chuckled nervously, but Wade just shook his head and smiled with a shocking amount of warmth.

"You're a lot happier than you were last week." He motioned to Peters whole body with his hand, swinging his chimichanga around and flopping some of it's filling on the building beneath them. "You should go out more as Spidey if it helps this much." Wade hummed and swallowed what was left of his food in one go.

"Yeah. I've been... busy, so I hadn't really realized how it's been a while. Glad to be back though.." Peter mumbled, not wanting to tell the whole story.

They then settled into their usual silence as they ate their food, The sky had gone from a deep orange to almost turning completely blue now, and the city had woken up by the time the bag was half empty.

When they were done eating Peter swung His legs over the edge repeatedly to pass the time, his heels bouncing against the building while Wade laid next to him and rested his head on Peter's slim thigh.

Wade was singing '[ Ain't No Sunshine ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tIdIqbv7SPo)' under his breath, but Peter could hear it clearly despite the sound of traffic from below thanks to his heightened hearing, and it was strangely soothing.

"If I ever decide to get sideburns..." Peter mumbled absently, looking down at Wade who stopped singing to hum the melody instead while Peter talked. "I want them to be as glorious as [ Bill Withers' ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bill_Withers)," he finished.

Wade angled his neck so they could make eye contact and Peter distractedly rested his hand on Wade's chest, his arm had begun to twitch along with Peter’s heartbeat quickening (why, he didn’t know). Wade eyed the movement of his arm curiously before looking back up and Peter.

"That’s setting the bar pretty high for yourself, Petey boy." He said between hums.

Peter nodded, looking away from wade and eyeing the city below them.

"I tend to do that." He continued to listen to Wade's singing for a while, the man switching songs every now and then. He was rubbing circles on the rough red leather beneath him until he eyed the mercs Hello Kitty watch suspiciously. "Wait, shit."

The singing stopped, and Peter’s arm twitches violently enough for him to hiss.

"What?" Wade asked while looking at Peter’s arm with what could only be concern.

Peter also noticed how Wade had tensed like he became nervous, so Peter was quick to explain himself and move his arm away from the other man. "I think I'm supposed to meet up with my friend right now." Wade didn't seem to relax and looked a little slumped even as they stood up.

"Oh, of course. You have places to be. Sure sure, I'll uh- just." He motioned to the roof. "Hang around here, there has to be something entertaining to do here. Or I'll just go do some mercenary stuff."

Peter shifted his weight to one of his legs, cocking his hip out and resting his hand on it, and put his other hand up at the last option. If he could stop Wade from killing and suggest something else to do, he would. "What about your buddy, Weasel? Can’t you go tho his bar?"

Wade visibly deflated this time.

Ah.

"Wait, what's up with Weasel?" Peter asked. If Wade's friend was in trouble he wouldn't hesitate in trying to help. Not after all the times he put up with Wade dragging a half-dead Spier-Man into their apartment twice a month and helping with stitching him up. The man was strange, and often rude, but Peter still owed him for all of those times.

Wade’s shaking of his head dragged Peter out of his head. "Petey, I can see you thinking about this all wrong and getting worried behind that mask, I assure you Weasel is fine. I mean- yeah he’s a little mad at me maybe-" Wade chuckled halfheartedly, kicking the ground beneath him. Peter nodded and motioned for him to continue. Wade cleared his throat, "Oh, well. I kind of got kicked out? So I'm kind of homeless? Yeah."

There was a pause, a chuckle, a realization that what was said wasn’t a joke, and a sigh from Peter.

"Sorry I’m- Honestly, that’s the most normal thing that has ever happened to you, I think. Ever." Peter took pride in how he made Wade's shoulders rise in a chuckle.

“Yeah, well, I had it coming.” Wade said, “it’s not like it’s the end of the world, just sucks a little, you know?”

Peter hummed and nodded in sympathy. And then Peter's phone rang.

Wade hissed in sympathy when Peter's eardrums nearly got ruined by Ned's angry yelling, and Peter quickly ended the call with a stressed “sorry, I’m so sorry!”

“I’m guessing that’s your friend?” Wade smirked, and Peter’s stomach did a slip when his eyes drifted to look at his lips for a little too long.

“Uh- I- yeah.” He stuttered, and Wade waved his hand in a ‘go on, go’ motion towards the edge of the roof.

Peter gave a genuine thanks for the food before jumping off the roof, grinning stupidly at Wade’s whoop’s behind him. Peter rushed to his apartment to change before leaping down his stairs, nearly tripping as he when to the front door.

Ned was furious when he arrived, he made sure that Peter was aware of how he left his friend to freeze to death outside of his gate because nobody in his building would buzz him in. Peter apologized by making an awesome breakfast though.

“You’re an asshole, Parker,” Ned grumbled between bites. “What were you doing anyways?”

Peter shrugged while flipping another pancake, it landed on a plate which he placed in front of his friend. “You know, stuff.” Thankfully Ned didn’t push him on the matter, and his anger was mostly gone by the seventh pancake.

They then got to work on making an okay looking post on craigslist, Peter took some photos of the apartment and the bedroom with his camera while Ned worked on setting everything up on the site before he had to leave for lunch with Michelle.

“Thanks for the breakfast, dude. Good luck on finding a roomie, call me as soon as someone contacts you, okay?” Ned said while shrugging on his jacket.

“Let’s just hope that they aren’t a serial killer,” Peter joked, and Ned punched him in his shoulder before leaving.

Peter settled on his well-loved sofa and waited for the Pictures he’d taken to transfer to his laptop. It was one of the most boring things ever, and while waiting he checked twitter and his email and scrolled through some text messages he had yet to answer. That’s when he stumbled upon Wade's contact

He stared at the small Photo of him and Wade as Deadpool and Spider-man that he had taken when they first exchanged numbers because Wade insisted that having a picture on every contact was a must. His eyes traveled between the craigslist ad and the phone in his hands. Several times. Back and forth.

Peter’s heart spiked when he got the idea, and his throat got dry all of a sudden.

His mind went back to this morning, and Peter swears his thumb moved entirely on its own when it pressed call, and his voice spoke entirely on its own when Wade eventually picked up.

"Hey, Wade. You needed a place to stay, right?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe this is just a really long vine reference...


	2. Maybe it's for the best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guyss! You're all so sweet!  
> I can't believe all of the comments I got on the first chapter, thank you all so much for your positive feedback! I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting people to be finding this so fast, let alone comment on it, but I'm so grateful that you did! 
> 
> I have about five chapters written already and was planning on waiting to post them. Well, I still am... Except for this one!  
> I wanted to post this chapter earlier than I had first intended to because of everyone's kind words and encouragement. :)
> 
> The last chapter was more like a prologue, so in this one, you'll finally get some roommate action! Thank you all so much again, and enjoy the chapter!  
> (I just wanted to mention that I experiment a little with the perspective shifts in this chapter because I didn't love how I did it in the first one. So, like halfway through it'll transition to Wade's POV without me cutting off a scene in any way. I think I did it well enough for it not to be too confusing, but tell me in the comments if I should do more of it or keep doing different sections for the perspective of each character!)

_tap tap tap._

Peter sat on a barstool in his kitchen, eyeing the front door warily as he waited. His hand went up to his hairline, fingers twisting in his brown locks, tugging until there was a burning sensation in his scalp.

_tap tap tap._

The heel of his foot repeatedly bounced on the floorboards, and he could feel the sweat on his forehead underneath his twitching palm.  
What. _The hell._ Was he Thinking?

_tap tap tap._

Wade could come through that door any moment now because Peter _Fucking_ Parker invited him to freaking move in with him. They're friends, sure, that's the main reason why Peter had even thought about calling him in the first place. But his friend is also a mercenary who, even though his hands have been clean for a few months thanks to Peter's no killing policy (Which he had told Wade was necessary to follow if he wanted Peter to even _consider_ them being friends), has murdered people. Lots of people.

_tap tap tap._

The call hadn't been long at all, and they hadn't gone over a lot of details, it might've been one of the most dull-witted decision Peter has ever made, and he was most definitely a little terrified... But some part of him still felt slightly excited about it all. He had Wade's positively delightful reaction to the invitation to thank for that.

"Hey, Wade. You needed a place to stay, right?" Peter asked reluctantly in a choked up voice, exhaling the breath that he didn't realize he had been holding immediately after talking. Wade must have noticed how shaky his breathing was because his response wasn't even an answer to the question.

"You okay there, Petey? You sound a little nervous. Are you running from someone, is that why you're asking?" Peter could hear Wade moving and the sound of wood rubbing together, opening a drawer? And- Oh, yup. That was unmistakably a gun being loaded.

"N- no, Wade it's not that! Listen-"

"I'll take care of it okay? Where are you?" Wade's usually high and cheery voice was now stern and curt when he spoke, and was that _another gun_ being loaded?

"Wade, for heaven's sake, put the guns down!" Peter stood up abruptly, pacing around his living room instead to cool down, his nervousness being replaced by frustration. "Let a guy explain first, Jeez!"

"... So my guess is you're not about to get murdered and is not looking for somewhere to hide?" When Peter let out an unnecessarily loud groan, Wade just laughed a breathy laugh, and the sound removed the tension in Peter's shoulders along with the frown on his lips. "Well then, yes, I am homeless. Though I'm not going to lie, I wouldn't mind living in this hotel where I'm staying right now, fancy stuff, nice brick beds, and I like the moldy bathrooms. Even got a new roommate, he's a lot cooler than Weasel. Doesn't mind me taking up a lot of space since he's a cockroach."

"Is it fancier than a loft apartment in Carnegie hill?" Peter grinned at the stunned silence on the other end, leaning against his bathroom door.

"Peter. Are you selling me an apartment right now?"

"More like offering you to share one if you help pay rent." He laughed in response, shuffling his foot on the floor nervously. "So..?"

"PETEY!"  
The sudden shift in volume had Peter stumbling away from the door and nearly throwing the phone away from his face.  
"YOU WANT TO BE ROOMIES? LIKE IN _FRIENDS,_ AND _NEW GIRL?"_

"Wade. _Ow, dude._ "

"SORRY! Ahem- Sorry. But _Petey."_ At this point, Peter had put the phone on speaker and sat down at his kitchen island. "Why are you giving this glorious opportunity to a little old thing like me? I feel like I was just given an Oscar. Living with Spiderman..."

"I had an empty room and was going to put an ad on craigslist because it's crazy expensive paying for the rent alone, but I wanted to check with you first because of your homeless situation." Peter shrugged, even though Wade couldn't see him. "Also, you'll be living with Peter Parker, not Spider-man. There's a difference."

"Oooh, if a pretty thing like you invited people in from craigslist, maybe I'd have actually have to come to kill some weird murderer for you." Wade chuckled, and Peter scoffed, wanting to shove the statement in Ned's face and ignored the blush on his cheeks at Wade's compliment.

"I tried to tell my friend that, but he insisted." There was a short silence, but Peter didn't let it live for too long, clearing his throat and looking at the top of his phone screen for the time. Five in the evening. "So, when do you want to bring your stuff here? I'm assuming you're moving in from your reaction?"

"Oh! Sure sure, yeah. I don't have a lot to bring, so uh. An hour?" Peter was a little shocked at how little time his friend needed but hummed in agreement nonetheless. "I'll bring food if you haven't eaten?"

Suddenly Peter realized how hungry he was. He hadn't eaten anything since the burritos he and Ned had for brunch. His mouth watered at just the thought of putting food in his belly.  
"I'm starving. Chinese, pretty please?"

"You got it, sweet cheeks. I'll get your favorite. See you in an hour!"  
And just like that, the call was over.

_tap tap tap._

Only after replaying the scene in his head did Peter realize that he hadn't given Wade any information other than that he lived in Carnegie hill. Did Wade know his address? Oh, who was he kidding? If Wade could figure out his identity after meeting Peter Parker as Deadpool one time, he could figure out where he lived in a heartbeat.

_tap tap tap._

Had it been an hour yet? The wait was killing him. He's pretty sure he's been sitting here staring at his door for an hour, right? That door, damn it, he still needed to fix it. There was a lot that needed fixing. What was he thinking just inviting Wade in like that? He's not prepared at all.

_tap tap-_

He stopped tapping his foot when he felt a dull prickling sensation down his neck, and a heavy sigh could be heard behind him followed by three 'tsk's. Turning his neck around reluctantly, he found himself staring at Wade in his Deadpool suit, sitting on the edge of one of his larger windows, duffle bag over his shoulder and a plastic bag with takeout in one hand. After they made eye contact, though, Wade jumped down and strolled over to Peter who swirled his chair around so he could face him.

"Good, I thought that tapping would never stop. You worry too much in that little head of yours, you know that?" Wade chuckled and removed the hand that Peter was resting on his forehead, ruffling up his hair with one of his own larger hands.

"How long were you standing- err, _sitting,_ there?" Peter asked, swatting Wade's hand away reluctantly. Because some part of him was majorly touch-starved, but he also had to keep some of his dignity. Wade chuckled, moving to put the food down on the island behind Peter.

"For a minute or so. You're adorable when you're nervous, spider-boy."

Turning in his seat and following wade's movements as he moved around the kitchen, Peter waited for a beat until he got Wade's attention again. "What?" Peter asked and couldn't help but puff out a laugh, cocking his head.

"What..?" Wade asked right back, his mask showing the motion of him blinking confusingly, then snapping up in realization. "Oh, I called you adorable? Well, you are. Hey! Don't you dare act surprised!" He laughed and pointed accusingly at Peter when he made a face.

"Dork." Peter scoffed.

Wade shook his head, mumbling something under his breath, then moved to open one of the cupboards. How Wade instantly made himself look at home in this apartment where he's never been before, was a mystery in its own. "Anywho, chopsticks or silverware?"

"Chopsticks, you imbecile." Peter scoffed and caught the pair that was chucked at his face, catching them effortlessly thanks to his reflexes.

"I don't care what you say, Peter Parker, living with _Spider-man_ is gonna be awesome." Wade chuckled and settled down next to him on a barstool and pushed his mask up, opening the boxes of Kung Kao chicken and rice, and watched with a wide grin as Peter practically devoured half of it so fast he almost got worried. When they were both done eating they were both in a massive food coma because Wade has a habit of buying way too much food, but they eat it all anyway because they don't want to waste good food. They sat there for a few minutes, and Wade listened half-heartedly to Peter talking about making some rules, focusing more on looking at the apartment.

To the left upon entering the apartment (through the door, not a window) was a corridor with three doors. To the right was the kitchen which was connected to the living room and the dining area that contained a small table with four chairs (wade assumed Peter never actually ate there judged by all of the papers and office supplies scattered across it). The ceiling, upon inspection, got a lot taller where the kitchen split up to be the living room. Presumably due to the loft that Peter was talking about earlier. The long ladder on a distant wall only proved his theories.

Wade then turned his focus back to Peter, who was talking expressively with his hands. He couldn't help but notice how pretty he looked in the shine of the afternoon sun. His brown hair was glowing orange, and his long lashes were brought out in the light as well, occasionally fluttering on top of his peachy, round cheeks. His lips were round and perfect like always but seemed a little chapped, probably from the cold, Peter has a lot of problems with creating body heat, he remembers the man telling him. When his gaze went up to Peter's eyes, he met them staring right back at him. Caught off guard, wade smiled a goofy smile and nodded, but by the flat look on Peters' face, he guessed he'd missed something entirely. And then he noticed how Peter's mouth was moving and had to shake his head to get out of whatever state he had entered and listened to the words.

"You okay?"

"Uuh..." Crap! What does he say now? Be honest and straightforward, maybe? But will Peter like that? He doesn't usually like it when Wade comments on his butt and stuff. No, don't start thinking about his butt, do not start thinking about his butt, hisbutt,  _hisbutthisbutt-_  
"Butt."

Next thing he knew, Peter was laughing so hard that tears were pooling at the edges of his eyes, and he had to grab onto the brunettes bicep because he almost fell off the freaking stool- and oh god, no, now they were both falling because of gravity and stuff, damn you gravity! And suddenly wade was snatching Peter onto his chest and twisting their bodies so that the smaller man was on top of him.

Wade never liked physics.

But when it resulted in the mess that was Peter Parker laying on top of him in a laughing fit, those cute cheeks pink as ever, and that beautiful voice filling his- no, _their_ apartment, like a song, he didn't mind it so much.

"Butts? Wade- what?" Peter said between laughs, pushing himself up to straddle Wade's stomach, bouncing slightly when Wade finally let out a bark of laughter, and his body moved with it.

"I panicked!"

"Panicked? What was there to panic about? My butt?" Peter snickered, adjusting the leather straps on Wade's suit absentmindedly, calming down a little.

"Who said it was _your_ butt?" At that, Peter looked at him bug-eyed. Wade smirked at the way Peter's face turned bright red and how he ducked his chin down to hide his eyes behind his thick locks in shame. If Wade saw how Peter's arm twitched when his muscles tensed, he didn't mention it. "Don't worry, Petey, it was a joke. I only think about your butt." Wade pushed the hair away, and brown doe eyes peered back at him.

"... Really?"

"Yup!" Wade grinned, wrapping his arms around Peter's hips and pulling him up over his chest.

"Oh..." Peter wiggled at the new position and lifted his legs as if to check if he was choking Wade with his weight or not, which Wade couldn't help but chuckle at. "But, uhm. Did you hear anything I was talking about earlier?"

"Nope, sorry sweetums, I was too busy looking at your cute face." Wade tried to shrug, but it became this awkward movement where he tugged on Peter's hips instead and decided against it.

"How come you get to look at my cute face, but I can't look at your handsome one?" Peter pouted, ghosting his hands over Wade's cheekbones.

"Oh no, Petey, you don't wanna see this ugly-"

"I swear if you say 'ugly mug' to me ever again I will choke you to death," Peter growled and gripped the larger man's throat. Not tight enough to hurt though.

"Peter Pumpkin, are you _trying_ to turn me on right now? Because you're kind of turning me on." Wade asked, voice going dark as he wiggled his eyebrows expressively. Peter would be lying if he ever denied that Wade managing his voice like that didn't do things to him, but he neglected the butterflies in his stomach and the thumping in his heart for now.

"Wade, I'm serious. I've seen you before, and you're not ugly. In fact, I think you're really handsome." Wade grunted questionably under him, and Peter made sure the larger man didn't forget the grip he had on him, moving his hands so they could hold on better. "I mean it, dummy."

"I'm sure you think you do, Petey. But you've never seen it close up, and for more than just a couple of seconds. What if you change your mind, hm? You'll have to go find a creep on craigslist, that's what." Wade chuckled, but Peter didn't budge. "I think the mask should stay on, sweetums."

"I'll only ask one more time if it really bothers you this much, but..." His tone softened, so did his previously tight grip, and he instead started massaging the bottom of the Deadpool mask soothingly. "Please, I want to see you." One of his hands then moved up to a cheek, caressing his palm softly on top of the red fabric. "The _real_ you."

Wade was silent for a couple of seconds before sighing defeatedly.  
"Okay," his husky voice hummed, and Peter smiled contently at the mercenary.

The arms that were previously around Peter's hips carefully untangled and one of Wade's significantly bigger gloved hands grabbed the smaller one on his cheek. He took a deep breath and Peter squeezed Wade's hand reassuringly before they removed the mask together. The first thing Peter saw was his blue eyes. So, so blue. And Wade's jawline was even more impressive without leather covering it, but god, his _eyes._

They stared at each other for a long-drawn minute, at one point Wade wondered if he had become Medusa and turned Peter to stone, so he kissed the palm of the small hand he was still holding to get a reaction. Peter's eyes widened as he stuttered for words, not knowing where to look all of a sudden. Eventually, though, his eyes settled on Wade's scarred lips. Of course, Wade noticed this, so as soon as they made eye contact again, he stuck out his tongue and winked.

Peter whimpered pathetically with embarrassment and hit Wade on the shoulder, all while his blush grew 10 shades darker. Wade hastily grabbed Peter's face between his palms while Peter was busy getting all frustrated and cute as he does, and smacked a fat, sloppy kiss on his cheek.

"Oh my god, gross!!" Peter shrieked, wiping at his cheek, Wade cackled loudly as the small man scrambled away from him on the floor. "It smells like chicken!"

-

Peter left Wade to put what little things he had brought into the empty room (Well, it had a bed, a wardrobe, and a nightstand, so it wasn't exactly _empty_ empty), while he went to clean the kitchen after their antics. Cleaning isn't something he often does, he's been so busy lately, and before that aunt May always took care of it, even when she was sick she insisted on doing it. But Peter felt it was necessary when he looked at the fallen stools and the mountain of empty takeout boxes. He doesn't think he's ever seen that much food in his apartment ever, but he got a feeling that a lot of things would be different with wade around now.

So he fixed the chairs, put all of the takeout boxes in a trash bag and threw that down the disposal in the stairwell, he tried to clean the counters, but he's never really learned how to do this stuff or cared to, so it still looked a little dirty. When he was done with all that jazz, he went to sit down at his "dining table" to continue on his newest article. It isn't frequently he gets the opportunity to have his work on the front page, so he was really making sure it looked convincing. Because nothing he was saying was actually accurate, and he knew that more than anyone because he's the source.

That's right, writing false facts about yourself for a living is something that Peter Parker does, but it's good money so he couldn't complain. He only got the front article because he told his boss (and later showed) that he could get exclusive pictures of Spider-man because he associates with him. Which isn't really, technically, a lie. But working at the Daily Bugle is really just making your whole career about lying, to begin with.

He was so focused on flipping through printed versions of hate forums and taking notes at the same time, that he didn't even notice that Wade had come up behind him until he snatched the notepad from under Peter's nose. Peter turned around hesitantly to look at the man. Wade was eyeing the notes disapprovingly.

"What even is this?" He handed the pad back, and Peter clutched to it defensively. "Why are you writing lies about yourself, webs?"

"It's for work." Peter spluttered out, and he could tell that Wade didn't believe him by the rise of his (non-existent-but-convenient-for-writing) eyebrow. "I uh, I work at the Daily Bugle."

"Now why the hell would you do that? That ought to put you in a grumpy mood, being surrounded by a bunch of people who hate you?" Wade scoffed and put his hands on his hips.

"Tell me about it." Peter sighed, he put his pad back down and moved to stand up. "JJJ pay's pretty well though, especially if you know Spider-man personally and is able to provide those scumbags with exclusive photos and junk."

"Mhm. Don't worry about going to work too much anymore though, we're sharing the rent now!" Wade grinned. Only then did Peter realize that Wade was wearing a red hoodie that looked too big on him, and a pair of black sweatpants instead of his suit. "Do you have any ice cream? I was thinking we could hook up some Netflix on the TV and settle in for the night with a bunch of blankets because it's starting to get a little cold in here. Seriously, that can't be great for you, I know you aren't a fan of the cold."

"Oh yeah... I don't have heat during the night because I couldn't afford it." Peter sighed and rubbed the back of his head.

"Just during the night? How do you sleep?" Wade hummed, grabbing Peter's chin and tilting his head as if inspecting him.

"M- most days I get home around midnight, and I don't sleep for long, so it uh- it hasn't really bothered me. E- except for on the weekends, but it's fine, no worries." Peter gulped and felt a drop of sweat on his sensitive skin, he tried looking anywhere but in Wade's direction because his brain was currently screaming at him: _God he's so close, what the hell is that feeling in my stomach? I can't like him, he was just flirting for fun earlier, he's not serious, he never is. Why does he care, anyway? This doesn't concern him! Wait yes it does, he lives here now, Wade Wilson lives here, with me, I live with Deadpool, holy shit-_

Wade was caught off guard at the other man's behavior, he looked panicked and nervous. By the way Peter was biting his lip like he does whenever he's overthinking something, Wade knew something was up.  
"Petey, I need you to stop thinking whatever you're thinking, you're working yourself up."

Peter shut his eyes tightly, and Wade's hand on his chin slipped up to his cheek worryingly. If he could only read minds, god, what an awesome superpower, plus he could help his spider much easier with all of those thoughts in his head.

Peter's head, ah yes. What a mess, but right now it mostly contained the thoughts:  
_Kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him..._  
For some reason.

Instead of _kissing him_ , he leans forward, head falling against Wade's hard chest while drawing blood from the inside of his lip. Dammit, Parker, you're not a horny teenager, keep it together. This is _Wade,_ he's your roommate and friend, don't ruin that.

Peter _knows_ that Wade likes him back, that much is evident. But wade doesn't know that Peter likes him too, and he's clearly only flirting for fun. There's no way Wade is flirting to get Peter to actually like him, Wade flirts with anything that has two legs... And maybe things with more than two legs too.

So Peter doesn't kiss Wade, but maybe it's for the best. Whatever they have now is great, it's amazing, and doing one wrong thing might ruin all of it, so he does nothing.

Warm arms embraced him, and a hand rubbed his back. "Let's start up something on Netflix, huh? You need a break."

Peter nods and keeps denying his feelings towards Wade, and even as he settled onto the run-down sofa with warm blankets and cuddled with Wade for hours, even as he felt large hands comb through his hair just before he lost consciousness, dozing off against the other man...

And even when he woke up on the sofa the morning after, breakfast and juice on the coffee table with a note from Wade, he still denied his feelings for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't care if I'm moving too fast, I promised a lot of fluff so I shall deliver >:0


	3. Update on the story! Please read!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will be removed once I’m done editing the story.

Hello my lovely readers! So sorry for not updating this work in months, but a lot has happened to me lately and it took a while for me to recover to a state where I can comfortable write again. This is just a little update on what’s going to be happening with this story!

I do _not_ plan on discontinuing this work, BUT! I do plan on (almost) completely rewriting it. As I’ve stated before, I’ve had multiple chapters already written for this work but I never got to posting them because they didn’t feel right. I’d like to ask those of you who have read this story what parts you'd like me to keep, since I don’t want to change it too much!

So! Please do tell me your favorite aspects of this story that you think I should keep, it would help a lot!

(of course you don't have to do this if you don't want to, but if you plan on reading more of this story I highly suggest it, since I might take out the soul reason you were reading this by accident.)

Thank you all for everything and I look forward to post more soon!

<3


	4. Bad Morning

It’s almost been two weeks since Wade moved in, and Peter _still_ can’t get a hold of his emotions.

Everything the man does drives him mad, and thanks to past Peter, he has to look at that handsome face of his every single day. Don’t get him wrong, Peter is very pleased with how Wade is comfortable enough to not wear his mask while he’s around him. But it’s very hard for Peter to forget his little man-crush when Wade is looking at him with those blue eyes of his.

He’s been trying to semi avoid Wade, but the man’s want to be attached to Peter’s side like a leech is making that quite the difficult task. He resulted to sleeping in late every morning so that Wade would go out to do whatever it is he does during the day without them interacting in the morning.

But like with everything else Peter does, Wade caught onto that as well. Peter knew that Wade was observant, but not _this_ observant. Wade could instantly know if Peter was going to have a good or bad morning by taking one look at him, it was equally as invasive as it was touching. 

He often had bad mornings due to his bad sleeping habits, but since the accident he’d also have days where he was in immense pain, and his senses would be dialed up way higher than by just 11. Peter had been lucky enough to not have one of these morning yet, because Wade still doesn’t know about Peter’s injury, and that was a conversation he was not ready to have.

Key word “had”.

The moment he woke up he was hit with pain, enough for him to groan and tense up as he tried to straighten out his back as much as possible. He peaked open one of his eyes to look at the digital clock next to his bed, but instantly regretted it when he was blinded by the morning sun. It burned like someone had poured boiling water over his eye, and his head instantly started pounding.

He took a few seconds to breathe slowly like the doctors had taught him, and then tried again. This time he managed to catch a glimpse of the big bold numbers which said that it was 6:45am. Definitely too early, but going back to sleep now would be impossible without a painkiller or _something_  to lessen the agonizing pain.

After laying still for ten minutes or so, breathing heavily as the pain only got worse, Peter decided that he couldn’t take anymore. Sitting up was a nightmare in itself, and Peter almost outright screamed when he pushed himself to stand, but bit his lip hard enough to only let out a groan. He should technically not be moving at all, but he can’t just lay in bed all day. Not to mention his very curious roommate who would without a doubt know that something was up.

After rummaging through his nightstand for his meds couldn’t find anything but an empty bottle of pills. Great, so he didn’t have a choice but to go down to the bathroom, risking to run into Wade. 

Peter takes back everything he ever thought about standing up, that was nothing compared to walking down the steep stairs from his loft. He had to take multiple breaks because it honestly felt like he was going to snap in two if he didn’t, but eventually he made it down.

He doesn’t know if he should be smiling or crying at the sight before him.

Wade was standing in the kitchen with earbuds on, swaying his hips as he cooked breakfast, humming on a song that Peter hasn’t heard before. The smell off food hit him hard and fast, and he almost stumbled backwards as his senses went haywire. 

The smell of different kinds of spices and vegetables made his head spin, and the sudden feeling of nausea had him tripping into the bathroom to throw up what was mostly stomach acid into the toilet. In the corner of his eye he could see Wade turning off the stove and putting away his apron, but he chose to ignore it as he heaved his insides up.

When the lights turned on in the bathroom Peter visibly flinched and made a groggy sound of pain, only to half collapse over the toilet seat when they were turned off.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Wade whispered, and Peter felt a hand rubbing the top of his back reassuringly. He looked up to see a glass of water being handed to him, which he took gratefully, practically gulping it all down in half a second. “I’ll go close the blinds” Wade murmured, and left once Peter nodded thankfully.

It took him another minute to exit the bathroom, but once he did he was happy to find the apartment in complete darkness. Wade was standing in the kitchen again, putting away the cooked food into the fridge, scrunching his face up in worry. Peter walked past him towards the living room, flashing a quick smile as he went.

“I’m guessing you’re not that hungry, huh? Good Morning, by the way,” Wade said in a hushed voice and leaned against the kitchen island as he watched Peter stumble over to the sofa. 

“Mn’n…” Peter mumbled back in response, slowly and carefully slinking into the sofa. He could hear Wade muttering something behind him before he spoke again.

“You okay?”

“M’fine,” He said curtly, a heavy sigh leaving his lips as he sank down in the cushions.

Peter rubbed his eyes that were still stinging, and his ears had started ringing painfully. He pressed two fingers against his temples, focusing on his breathing as his headache grew to an unbearably painful level, not noticing the worried looks shot at him from across the apartment.

He was so out of it that he didn’t notice that the previously empty seat next to him was now occupied until he felt a hand on his thigh. He looked up to meet Wade’s blue eyes, but he couldn’t find it himself to get lost in them like he usually does, because the movement of his neck sent hot pain down his spine, making him hiss.

Wade was tugging at his bottom lip for a few minutes, like he wanted to say something, and when he eventually did Peter had to focus to hear what he said.

“So… Sensory overload, this got something to do with that injury you’ve been hiding from me?” Wade asked in a whisper. The question made Peter jolt up from his slouched position in shock, the fast movement making him gasp in pain. Wade was fast to steady him, frowning deeply as Peter settled again, his breathing now quickened. 

“H- how’d you?” Peter asked between gasps, swallowing multiple times because his throat had suddenly become insanely dry. Wade hushed him calmly and waited for him to calm down.

“I’ve noticed small things, like how you don’t move around as much and when you do you make that awful grimace while trying to hide your pain,” he says while rubbing gentle circles on Peter’s thigh. “Not to mention that twitch in your arm that you get when you tense up.”

“I’m sorry- I didn't-” Peter stutters, but Wade waits patiently for him to continue. “I didn’t mean to hide anything from you- I mean- I just don’t like talking about it…” He eventually says. Wade hums and searches Peter’s eyes for a hot second. It looks like he finds something, but Peter doesn’t know what that could be. 

They sit in silence for a while, it’s nice, and Peter’s mind gets to rest for a little bit. His breathing calms down and he can have his eyes fully open without it being too painful, and this time, he’s prepared for what Wade asks him.

“You know I wouldn’t ask you what happened, Petey,” he says, and Peter nods slowly. “So why would you hide it from me?”

“I didn’t want you to hinder me from having a normal life- or well- normal as in _my_ normal,” Peter says truthfully, and when Wade squints his eyes at him Peter shoots a question back at him, irritation lacing his words. “What? You’re not gonna tell me to stop going out as Spider-man? Or to stop working full time?”

A small scoff leaves Wade’s mouth and he leans back, his reaction surprises Peter who looks at Wade in alarm, flinching when Wade’s response comes back like he’s been offended.

“Do you honestly think I’d do that? Smother you and ask you to kindly ‘not live a normal life’?”

Peter sits straighter, he hadn’t meant for this to become a fight. “No- Wade, that’s not what I meant-”

Wade holds up a finger and stops Peter from continuing. “I’m the last person who’d want your injury to hinder you, Pete. I mean- look at me!” 

Peter’s whole body twitches as Wade raises his voice, and his head starts pounding again, but he misses the look of regret that flashes over Wade’s face as he pinches his eyes closed. “Please don’t shout, I get that you’re mad but please-” he whimpers.

Wade sighs and sits back, gently pulling Peter with him to lay on his chest. Peter doesn’t argue and so they sit there in silence, the air between them tense after the fight. After a while though, Wade leaves the apartment. Peter doesn’t question it, he assumes that Wade is mad and wants some space, so he calls in sick for the day and climbs his way up to his loft to sleep the hours away.

What he doesn’t expect when he eventually wakes up later that evening is to wake up the same way he went to sleep, alone. There’s no sign of Wade having come home since he left that morning, and Peter feels sadness fill his heart. Wade must be really upset with him.

Peter didn’t mean to make Wade mad, he wouldn’t say he assumed anything, but after how his friends and godfather had reacted to his injury he just-

Well yeah, he did assume Wade would act the same, and that was super low of him to do.

He deserved to be mad at, but Peter hoped wholeheartedly that Wade could find it in himself to forgive him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... We're back folks! Thank you everyone for your feedback!
> 
> THe chapters are going to be a lot shorter from now on, at leats until summer break starts (four weeks whoo!) but it's better than nothing i guess!


	5. Caught off guard

Peter knows he shouldn't be doing this.

Especially not after a fight, and absolutely not while he’s still in this much pain, but then again he’s always been good at doing what he shouldn't.

He’s swinging through the city for the tenth time in these past two weeks, ignoring the growing pain in his lower back as he twhips between buildings. Lately, his patrols have been calm, or well, calmer than usual. 

He’s been picking easier crimes to stop on purpose, and he knows that it’s unfair for him to pick and choose when it comes to his line of work, but it’s better than doing nothing at all. Peter might be going out as Spider-Man despite doctor’s (and a very protective godfather’s) orders, but he still knows that he can’t overexert himself.

He had contemplated what to do for a while after he woke up alone in the apartment. Part of him wanted to call Wade to see if he was okay, and to apologize, but he didn’t want to disturb the man if he wanted some time alone.

So instead he decided to put on his Spider-Man suit and patrol the city like any other rational human would do.

He swings between buildings for an hour or so, stopping to help an old lady who’s dropped her grocery bag and to fetch a little boy’s lost balloon. There’s a bank robbery on the other side of the city that he wants to check out, that is until he hears a whimper a block away.

Peter decides to follow the sound (which isn’t very hard now that his senses are dialed up even more than normal) until he sees the alley where the cry is coming from, and utters a tsk at how cliche the sight before him is. Two older men are holding a young woman against the brick wall of the alley, ushering her to let go of her purse while spouting threats at her. This’ll be easy, Peter thinks naively. 

He goes for the man standing closest to the sidewalk by the corner while the one holding the girl is still distracted, and swiftly pulls him around the opening of the alley and webs him up against the wall. Quick and smooth, one more to go.

“Do me a favor and stay here ‘til the po-po comes, will ya?” Peter says and pats the man on his roughly shaved head before swinging back into action. With precision, he swings right into the bearded man holding the lady who yelps in surprise. He knocks him deeper into the alley until they both hit a wall, but unlike Peter who recovers easily from the impact, the man stumbles on his feet and struggles to stay upright.

Peter restrains the man up against the wall and holds him tightly by his biceps which the man huffs sneers in displeasure at, but Peter just finds the change of positions amusing. 

“See, it doesn’t feel so great when you’re the one being pinned, does it?” The man answers by shooting a puff of air angrily out of his nostrils, and Peter turns his head towards the Woman, she looks scared, rightfully so. 

“Did he manage to take anything from you?” Peter asks, and the expression on her face completely changes in a matter of seconds. Instead of frowning she smiles menacingly and he notices her eyes wandering to the robber's hand, where Peter now sees a knife being held tight.

He looks up at the man who smirks at him, his yellow and crooked teeth revealing themselves between chapped lips, and Peter freezes. The woman was in on it, they tricked him.

It isn’t the first time this has happened, a lot of people have tried and failed with this technique before, but despite the familiarity Peter stands still. His left arm starts twitching due to his panic and he struggles to catch his breath, he hasn’t been caught off guard like this since-

And then time slows down. Due to Peter’s sudden panic his tight hold slips and the man attempts to stab Peter in the leg as the woman draws a gun, but then Peter is being tugged backward by his arm and the smell of gunpowder fills the air. The shot is deafening and Peter attempts to cover his ears, but he’s being dragged away before he knows it. As he leaves the scene he can faintly hear sirens a few blocks away, but all sounds are soon blocked by a loud ringing.

He tries to keep up with the person who's dragging him away, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, but time still feels terrifyingly slow, and he doesn't feel present in the moment. It’s like the world is in slow-motion.

He thinks he hears someone shouting, but the ringing in his ears is too loud for him to focus on what they're saying. He can feel himself going into sensory overload again, the smell of gunpowder is still strong, and not only that but he can also smell burnt leather. He’s never noticed how foul the smell was before this, but there’s another smell that’s even worse, though he can’t figure out what it is because it feels like his brain has gone through a mixer.

It’s making him feel dizzy, it’s all too much, it’s _too much_. 

He doesn’t realize that he’s stopped running or that he’s had his eyes glued shut until a voice speaks softly to him, “Spidey, open your eyes” but he can’t, it’s too bright and his lungs are burning, he can’t breathe.

“Spidey- _Peter_ , please look at me,” The voice then says, and in alarm, Peter opens his eyes only to see Wade’s eyes scanning his face worryingly. He’s no longer outside, nor is he standing. He’s sitting in the passenger seat in some cheap Volvo (Peter recognises the model, May had the same one), and the engine is growling loudly, making Peter’s ears pound. 

“You’re okay,” Wade says repeatedly as they start driving away from the parking lot, eyes flashing between the road and Peter, and Peter wonders if it’s payback to all the times he’s lied to Wade because he’s definitely not okay.

He can feel the vehicle move but doesn’t dare look out the windows, fearing that his headache will worsen from the moving colors, but Wade’s hand grounds him as he puts his on the gear lever while squeezing it tight. 

Peter doesn’t know for how long they’ve been driving but it has to have been a while because after some time Wade takes his hand and leads him out of the vehicle and up the stairs of a building, and it’s then that Peter realizes where they are. He recognizes the tiles of the hallway, and the big creaky door at the end of it, the key that Wade takes out of his pocket to let them into his- no, _their_ apartment.

Peter wants to cry, he wants to break down and cry because he’s home and Wade is here and he’s not mad at him. But he doesn’t. Because as soon as he’s able to calm down enough to look up from his feet, he notices where the god awful smell of burnt leather was coming from. Wade’s suit.

Wade got shot in the back.

Pieces of scarred skin, red and sooty, peek from behind the ruined leather. Peter can tell Wade’s making a valiant effort to hide it from him, but he can see the wound clearly, _and smell it_. 

Peter feels a wave of nausea hit him.

“Wade, you-” Peter whimpers, and his legs almost buckle under him, but he manages to steady himself against the heavy door behind him. He covers his face with his arm in an attempt to avoid the stomach-churning smell.

Then Wade’s running right at him and in a swift movement, he picks Peter up like a teddy bear, smooshing him to his chest. Gasping, but not entirely displeased with it, Peter scrambles to wrap his arms around Wade’s neck to balance himself.

One of Wade’s hands rubs down Peter’s back, which makes Peter whimper slightly, the other hand finds Peter’s face and touches it reverently.

He must know what Peter is thinking because he says “I’m fine Petey, don’t you worry,” but he’s not fine, he’s lying, _he has a bullet in his back_ , he’s lying. 

Now, Peter thinks, he should tell him now. But just thinking about it brings back horrible memories. He can feel it so clearly, like the day it happened. The pain striking him suddenly, his arm locking up, the ache in his back like his spine splinters into a thousand different pieces.

Wade shushing him gently pulls him out of his head, when had he started crying? 

“You don’t have to tell me baby boy,”  Wade murmurs, voice choking with restrained emotion. How is it that Wade can read Peter like a book? The taller man shifts his hold and Peter chokes on a sob, his mind instantly jumping to the conclusion that Wade’s mad, Wade’s going to let go and ignore him like he deserves.

But Wade doesn’t let him go, he only rubs gentle circles on his back and locks his eyes with his, there’s heavy concerne in his gaze but he keeps his cool, which Peter is thankful for.

“ Are you okay?” Wade asks and his eyes scan down Peter’s chest, around his throat, he’s checking him over for injuries, Peter realizes. “I almost jumped out of my skin when that lady pulled out her gun at you.”

Peter shakes his head and sniffles, “I’m okay,” he gulps, “But wade- you”

Wade chuckles at that and pats Peter’s head like he’s a child, Peter frowns but that only makes Wade smirk. “You know I’m okay, Petey,” and Peter sighs, resting his head in the crook of Wade’s neck. 

He does know that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Old time road starts playing*
> 
> He’s got a bullet in his back, yuh, bullet is attached, suit is red and black, got the boots that’s black to match
> 
> (I’m so sorry)


End file.
